


Tales from the Reclamation #1 - Choices

by PrincexSalem



Series: Tales from the Reclamation [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:23:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexSalem/pseuds/PrincexSalem
Summary: A small something that bit me this morning for the Post-Trespasser Elvhen Rebellion & Reclamation AU I’ve recently been stewing in.





	Tales from the Reclamation #1 - Choices

**Author's Note:**

> A small something that bit me this morning for the Post-Trespasser Elvhen Rebellion & Reclamation AU I’ve recently been stewing in.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The only things spoken while a carriage ride loomed. The window, scenery shifting from forest to plains, glittering Halamshiral at a distance still too far away to see. It would have been easier to ride, focused on controlling a hart that wanted to race through the streams rather than follow the road.

Easier still to breathe without wondering what had happened to them.

Them.

She didn’t dare look to see what her…companion - when was the last time that had actually been true? - was doing. It wasn’t fear, oh no, Yaviel had long lost whatever fear she’d held for the man and it wasn’t hope - at least if she told herself that maybe she’d feel less like crawling out of her skin and screaming - for whatever they’d had. Fear and hope required the same acknowledgement and she had buried that deep. Or at least tried to. Riding her hart from Skyhold to Halamshiral would have let her bury it and leave it buried. The past was the past and they’d both made their choices.

Like the choice that demanded their attendance at this silly ball and the Orlesians that demanded tries at diplomacy to hold to stolen things. She could have said no, he’d have found another or gone alone but diplomacy and rebellions - a reclamation she had to remind herself often - demanded unity even when the only thing she wanted to do was bury everything to do with him.

 Maybe she’d do that, after this, after the ball. Just bundle up everything and hide it away somewhere. Harder to hide a child but she’d made her peace with Isendil at birth. Just bury everything she could and maybe she’d finally remember how to breathe without choking on what ifs and memories. Without choking on the ghosts of other carriage rides and laughter and discussions of serious things and nothing at all.

Maybe she’d learn to breathe and drag down the wall of formality that kept her from running back to her past. They’d all made their choices so why did this one hurt so much?


End file.
